


Fall For Someone Who Will Spontaneously Bake You Cookies

by MadBiscuitLady



Series: These Old Feelings [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - 2000s, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkwardness, F/F, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Multi, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 11:21:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8204191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadBiscuitLady/pseuds/MadBiscuitLady
Summary: Reiner has a dream that makes him question his relationship with his best friend.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Jumping ahead in the timeline, but I had this idea fresh in my head. Told from Reiner's side this time. :)  
> I should probably mention that the timeline for this is somewhere in the early 2000s because I am old and that is the version of high school I am familiar with.

You are 16 years old when you have your first “wet dream” about your best friend. 

At first you shrug it off as just that; some weird dream. Sure you love Bertholdt, you've been friends since kindergarten, but did you really “love” him? This eats at you for the rest of the day. You're not sure if you feel more guilty for not knowing, or ashamed of this huge inappropriate fantasy your subconscious has created.

Perhaps worse yet, you can't get the feeling of dream Bertholdt's mouth on yours out of your head. The way he pressed himself against you, arms wrapped around your neck, and the way he rolled his hips, it felt too real. There was no way you could ever forget that. Nor can your dick apparently, much to your embarrassment, it's the cause of several uncomfortable and unwanted erections throughout the day. Thank god your hockey jersey is long enough to mask your shame. 

You don't know what to make of this, all you do know is that it needs to stop because you have no idea how you're going to face him at lunch, or ever again for that matter without thinking of the way he gasped out your name in the throes of passion. 

Unfortunately for you, time flies today and lunch period is upon you much sooner than you'd like. It's like the whole universe is eager to watch you crash and burn. You throw down your backpack at your usual table and hurry to the cafeteria. 

If there was one saving grace, it's that today is cream of chicken with rice soup day. You think you'll have enough time to score a bowl and a couple of the chocolate chip cookies from the bake shop. They always went fast due to their soft nature and the fact that they still tasted blissfully like raw cookie dough. Sorcery.

The line is long for soup, you just manage to get a bowl, but miss out on the cookies. Damn. If there was ever a day you needed those godforsaken things it was today. 

Ymir and Krista are already at your table. Looks like they passed on the soup, but Ymir has 3 of those delicious fucking cookies. Krista waves upon spotting you, and Ymir smirks. Somehow you're positive she knows you missed out on cookies. 

Yup, she unwraps one and starts eating it as sensually as possible. What an unimaginable asshole...

You scowl as you sit down and tear open a packet of pepper to mix into your soup. 

“Hey.” 

Oh sweet mother of fuck the moment you've been dreading all day has finally arrived. Be cool, just be fucking cool. So you've had a really inappropriate dream about your best friend, it never really happened, it's fine, everything is fine. He doesn't know, only you know. **You are the only one who can make this weird.**

“Hey.” You reply, and casually eat a spoonful of soup...and choke. Oh god, you didn't stir it. It was all pepper!

 _“So much for nonchalant,”_ you think as your eyes tear up and you struggle to down some water in between your coughing fits.

“Uh, you pretty much just ate straight pepper...are you okay?” His brow is quirked in concern which just looks...adorable? 

Oh no. This is it. This is how you die. Choking on pepper while realizing that you just might be attracted to your best friend. 

You hold up a hand after downing the rest of your water, “I'm good.” You rasp.

Ymir is howling with laughter at your idiocy, Krista hadn't been paying attention at the beginning and is just looking back and forth between you and Ymir with a puzzled expression on her face.

Bertholdt rummages through his bag for his lunch and you catch a glimpse of a worn, ancient button of Donatello from the old Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles cartoons. 

“You still have that thing huh?” You gesture at the button as Bertholdt retrieves his sandwich.

You gave Bertholdt that button when you were both little. Probably still in kindergarten. Donatello was Bertholdt's favorite of the turtles.

It wasn't hard to see why. Donnie was the brains and Bertholdt was no exception. With his steady 4.2GPA he was a top student, right below Armin Arlert and Mikasa Ackerman. And here you were at the bottom rung of the smart kids never seeming to rise higher than a 3.5. Whatever, it still meant you were in the AP/Honors courses for most subjects.

Bertholdt just looks at the pin and smiles, “I know, but it's kind of sentimental to me. Besides, these kinds of novelty things are still pretty popular, so no one really thinks its weird.” 

“Oh yeah,” Bertholdt sticks his arm back into his backpack and pulls out a zip lock bag of...oh sweet Jesus on a Pogo stick are those chocolate chip cookies?

“We made these in Home Ec. Want some?” 

You are completely overcome with emotion. “I love you.”

Way to go rookie.

“Wow Reiner, at least take him out to dinner first before dropping a bomb like that.” Ymir says with a smirk. 

You scowl. Ymir is the last person you want potentially picking up on any hints that you might have developed a crush on your best friend. She'll never let you live it down. It will be the topic of conversation and blackmail for the rest of your high school career, if not your life. How did everything get so complicated in less than 24 hours?

Luckily Bertholdt doesn't take your verbal diarrhea seriously and just laughs softly, “I figured you may have missed out on cookies since it's cream of chicken with rice day.” 

You might not be the most observant person, but you could swear that his ears were redder than usual. Probably just feeling awkward after what Ymir said. You don't blame him.

“You know me too well.” You say as you reach into the offered bag of deliciousness to grab a couple of cookies. They are soft and just the right temperature. You want to cry. What an angel.

“Shit,” You mutter, “I forgot to grab napkins.” You begin to get up, but realize that Bertholdt is already halfway across the cafeteria making a beeline for the napkin dispensers. How the hell does he do that?

He returns and places them on your tray. “Here.”

“Well we know who's the wife in this relationship.” Ymir laughs through a mouthful of cookie. 

Bertholdt's ears turn redder, but he otherwise outwardly pretends to be unaffected by the jab.

“What are you talking about?” Stupid emotions or not, you don't want anyone to make Bertholdt uncomfortable like this.

“Reiner please, you really haven't noticed how he always goes and gets things for you, or brings things for you? You guys are almost never apart, if you see one, you know the other is going to be following shortly. You're practically married.”

Actually, now that you think about it, that is true. He was always sharing his notes with you on days when you had practice to make sure you never fell behind, always had a spare umbrella handy when you forgot yours. The other day you mentioned wishing you had a soda, and Bertholdt offered to get one for you, today with the cookies, and now the napkins. Shit. He was always doing things like that. You really hope no one thinks you're just using him like your errand boy or something fucked up like that.

“I just wanted to help...” Bertholdt's eyes are downcast almost as though he's speaking to his tuna sandwich. His ears are still red and his signature nervous sweat seemed to be coming on.

You feel something twist inside of you at the sound of his voice.

Krista notices Bertholdt’s discomfort, however, and whacks Ymir with the spoon from the yogurt she was eating, “Ymir don't be fucking rude, or I won't let you drive me to and from school anymore.”

You are always amazed at how much venom lies within someone that seemingly sweet and innocent. 

Ymir crumbles instantaneously. “Wha-but Krista!”

“I mean it. Cut it out, or Frieda will be taking me to school, and you know how much she _loves_ you.”

Krista’s older sister Frieda didn’t trust Ymir at all, in the way that most upstanding fathers distrust any would-be suitors taking their little girl out on a date.

You glance over at Bertholdt, still looking despondent while chewing his sandwich.

“Hey,”

He stops chewing and looks over at you, a little wide-eyed. 

“Your cookies were really good.”

Relief seems to wash over Bertholdt’s face. He swallows the mouthful of sandwich and gives you a real honest-to-god genuine smile.

“Thanks.” 

Your stomach flip flops. You are so in over your head.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reiner thinks he has everything under control. He does not. At all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my buddy Andy for proofing this. This is the closest thing to smut I've ever written in my life. Please be kind to me.

Several weeks go by without any new awkward dreams about Bertholdt. You’re starting to grow accustomed to your random bouts of heart fluttering and butterflies all over the place when you’re around him. You’ve accepted it. Yes, Bertholdt is adorable, attractive even. This is fact. You can appreciate this without it affecting your friendship. This is totally doable.

Or so you tell yourself, you’re pretty sure you’re not supposed to daydream about what it feels like to kiss him though. Your first and only kiss (so far) was during a game of truth or dare at Connie’s birthday party in 7th grade. You had to kiss Sasha Braus, who had conveniently just been chowing down on a bag of Funyons. Needless to say, it was not an experience you look back on fondly.

You find yourself noticing more things about Bertholdt that you really like in ways that were probably more than friendly. Like how his eyes were green with flecks of brown around their pupils. Like earth visible between blades of grass. 

“Uh...is there something on my face?” He must have noticed you staring.

In a moment of pure panic you say the first thing you can think of, “Yeah, your nose.” 

You are an incredible idiot. Bertholdt has always been self conscious about his nose. It was what his mother referred to as a “Roman nose.” You remember him having a poster of some sculpture of an ancient Roman Emperor on his wall sporting a similar nose. Something to remind him that he wasn’t strange, that masters crafted famous works of art with similar facial features.

Bertholdt gives you a spectacular eye roll in response. God you even love that about him. His facial expressions give you life. You can’t help yourself, you start laughing.

Bertholdt tries to keep a straight face, but just ends up laughing as well. “You’re such a dork.”

Well, you’re not going to argue with that one.

\--

Tonight is the Warriors hockey game against the Titans. You were having a pretty good game, when a member of the Titans defense clipped you on your way to the puck causing a pile up of players. The next thing you know you’re in the box with a bloody nose and a seriously bruised shoulder when you would much rather be back on the ice. The Warriors got a penalty shot out of it, so there’s that at least.

“Reiner!” 

Bertholdt is rushing down the bleacher stairs to the row right above the player’s box.

He leans over the railing and calls down to you over the noise from the crowd, “Are you alright? You’re bleeding...”

“I’m okay, just got clipped. No big deal.” A dull ache spreads across your shoulder from twisting around on the bench and you wince and rub at the sore muscle.

Bertholdt’s lips purse in a way that tells you he doesn’t particularly believe you. “You hurt your shoulder.”

“’Tis a flesh wound.”

That gets a half smile out of him, good work Braun.

Bertholdt reaches into his messenger bag and pulls out a little glass jar with some Chinese writing on it, and passes it through the railing to you. 

“For your shoulder, Mikasa recommends it for sore muscles.” 

Tiger Balm? You can literally not believe this guy and his magical Barney bag of goodies sometimes.

You’ve heard the stereotype about women always having too much junk in their purses, but clearly they’ve never met Bertholdt Hoover: First of His Name, Lord of the Over-prepared, and Keeper of the Bag of Holding. 

Your stomach is doing the flip floppy thing again, dammit you were doing so well dealing with this too.

“Thanks, I’ll put it on before bed.”

Bertholdt beams, glad to have been of help. 

In the end, the Warriors narrowly managed to win the game by a single point. You _are_ happy about that, but you’re still cheesed that you really couldn’t take part in the action.

Instead, you go home, shower and smear that Tiger Balm stuff all over your shoulder. It has a pleasant cooling/tingly feel, even if it smells weird.

You crawl into bed and wrap yourself in your big fluffy comforter, taking care to situate yourself on your uninjured side. Your bed feels positively luxurious and you pass out the moment your head hits your pillow.

\--

“Reiner...”

Bertholdt is on top of you, hands on either side of your head. 

You swallow, throat dry as he leans in to kiss you. 

When his mouth meets yours its as if you’ve achieved some kind of enlightenment. You don’t know what brought this on, or what circumstances lead up to this moment, and you don’t care. You wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him closer, one hand sliding down his spine to grab his rear. 

Bertholdt moans into your mouth, and grinds his hips down against yours. You exhale sharply, the friction against both his and your arousal feels so surreal. You kiss him harder, god you need him closer, he’s already flush against you, but its just not enough. 

Both of you are panting, hearts thundering against one anothers’ chests.

“Rei...” He doesn’t even manage to get your whole name out in between gasps and kisses. 

You slide your hand up his back, his neck, and then fist it his hair, gently tugging his head back to mouth along his jawline and down his neck.

Bertholdt gasps and you can feel how hard he is, heat pooling in your lower halves, pure need to be sated. 

He presses against you, desperate for friction, and you press right back. 

“Bertl...” Your voice comes out almost like a whine.

You release your grip from his hair, Bertholdt searches for your free hand, brings your palm to his lips and...licks it? 

Okay, well, whatever, to each it’s own…

Suddenly your eyes shoot open, you’re alone in your bed, and your dog Rosie is most definitely licking at the palm of your hand. Well, that explains that last bit…

Another fucking dream. Your alarm clock tells you it’s 3:23am, and the only other source of light is coming from the opening in the door that Rosie must have squeezed herself through.

That’s when you see your 13-year-old little sister Annie standing in the hallway, glass of water in hand giving you the most disgusted look you have ever seen on another human being’s face. 

Oh holy Jesus…were you talking in your sleep?!

She scoffs and continues down the hall to her room and you hear the click of her door closing. 

You roll onto your stomach with a wince, partly because of your sore shoulder, and partly because you’re still hard, before burrowing your face into your pillow with a pathetic groan. 

You did not ask for this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Annie, the last thing I'd ever want to hear is my brother moaning out his friend's name in his sleep. D:


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reiner's feelings reach the boiling point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to get this done for reibert week, but I am late. I wanted to get this done for Reiner's birthday, but now I am (slightly) late on that delivery too. I am a human disaster.

You decide to avoid Bertholdt. If you don’t see him, your mind can’t wander and you won’t have any new embarrassing dreams to potentially scar your little sister at night. This is a foolproof plan and there is nothing at all impossible about it.

That notion lasts all of the time it takes you to get to school in the morning. You can’t avoid Bertholdt. It would be super obvious to everyone you know, and the more you think about it, the more you can’t bear how hurt it would make him. The confusion, the disappointment, oh god you feel guilty for even considering it, what were you thinking?!

You once again find yourself learning new ways to conceal your increasingly troublesome feelings. It’s like some horrible form of level grinding. You think you’ve got enough power-ups to defeat the boss, but he one-shots you anyway and it’s back to hours of beating up the same enemies in varying colors of difficulty for XP again. 

Your sister, who probably thinks you are the most vile pervert, openly scowls at you whenever she has to make eye contact. She hasn’t said anything to you about that night, but her face speaks volumes.

Luckily, it’s not entirely obvious to your parents since she’s long been dubbed the “Wednesday Addams of the family.” You can tell the difference though, or maybe that’s just your ever growing paranoia on the subject, who knows anymore?

You have to tell Bertholdt. It’s only fair, it’s the only way to end your suffering, or perhaps light the fuse on a whole new case of suffering, you don’t know. That’s when it happens. 

During lunch Armin stops over to talk to Bertholdt, this isn’t at all unusual, but Bert getting up to go sit with him and a few others instead of spending time with you is. You shrug it off. Whatever, it’s a free country. Bert can have lunch with whoever he wants, whenever he wants.

But then it happens again a couple days later, and then again the day after that, and pretty soon the only time you’re seeing Bertholdt at school is during English. 

You like Armin, you have no reason to dislike the guy, but this is maddening. You have been having lunch with Bertholdt for probably your entire life. You know what this is, you don’t want to entertain the thought, but you know damn well why this irritates you so much: **Jealousy**. 

Ymir must have noticed your glancing across the cafeteria. “Aww, trouble in paradise?” 

Krista rolls her eyes at her, “Ymir, I swear to god...”

“Sorry! Sorry!”

“Damn right you are.” Krista mutters before going back to her salad.

You’re not content to let this drive a wedge between you and Bertholdt. No, you are going to be good and proactive about this. No after school special-style drama here, no siree bob.

You get up and head over to the table Armin and Bertholdt are occupying. You’ll just invite Bert over after school, that’s all. Perfectly normal. 

Armin and Bertholdt appear to be pouring over some papers and books in complete concentration.

“Hey Bertholdt-”

They both jump, a nervous flush comes over both of their faces. You’re confused, just what the hell is going on…

You glance down at the papers.

Dungeons and Dragons Character sheets. That’s why Armin and Bertholdt have been spending so much time together. They’re making D&D characters, and apparently they’re both really uncomfortable with you knowing this for some reason.

You decide to pretend you didn’t see anything, or that you just don’t care.

“Yeah, I was going to ask if you were free after school? We haven’t hung out in a while.” 

A look of relief washes over his face, he spares a glance in Armin’s direction, before turning his attention back to you. 

“Not today, but is tomorrow okay?” 

“Yeah, sounds good.”

He gives a small smile, “Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Uh, later.”

_Oh god, why are you still standing here, you’re making this awkward, stop making this awkward Reiner!_

“Yeah, see ya,” You manage.

_Walk away, one foot in front of the other, there you go, just like that. Great._

After that little escapade, it’s clear you have to talk to someone about this. Obviously you need advice, but who could you ask? There’s no way in hell you could tell Ymir, and you know Krista can’t keep a secret from Ymir, and Ymir can’t keep a juicy tidbit to herself without exploiting it for personal gain, so that’s out...

“Reiner, I just made a big tossed salad, if you want to fix yourself a bowl...” Your mother pauses at the sight of you sprawled face first across your bed. 

“Are you alright?”

You lift your head, “Yeah, just dealing with some stuff.” That is the understatement of the century.  
It’s enough to pique your mother’s curiosity though.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She offers, still paused in your doorway.

“I guess, It’s kind of embarrassing though...” Honestly, you NEED to talk about it or you might drive yourself insane.

She closes the door behind her and sits beside you on your bed. 

“What’s bothering you?” She starts rubbing your back in a comforting manner, and that’s pretty much all it takes for you to start spilling the beans.

“I like Bertholdt and I don’t know how to tell him, and I also don’t want to tell him because he might get weirded out and not want to be friends anymore...I just...I don’t know what to do.”

“Oh Reiner...” It’s a similar tone to the one she used when you were a little kid and cried over the ending of Terminator 2: Judgement Day. “How long has this been going on?”

You pull yourself upright to a sitting position, “God, it’s been months now, I thought it would just go away if I ignored it, but...”

“It just got worse?” She offered.

“...yeah.”

She gives you a sad, comforting smile.

“I don’t know what the right course of action is, but I’ve known Bertholdt since you were both in kindergarten. He’s a very sweet boy, I don’t think he’d abandon you over this. You’ve been together too long.”

She has a point. In your eyes though, there’s a fairly decent chance he’ll distance himself and things will never be the same again, you don’t know if you could handle that. You’ve always heard this is the point in one’s life where friends start drifting away. This could very well be the catalyst. 

“I guess, you’ll just have to ask yourself which you would regret more, never telling him and wondering what could have been, or telling him and wishing you hadn’t.” 

Honestly, neither of those scenarios sounds all that pleasant, but this was never going to be easy in the first place. Tomorrow will be the day. It has to be.

...

You glance over at Bertholdt. He’s never been one of those kids that jerks their body in the direction they’re trying to propel their character in while playing video games. He is the very picture of concentration, posture tense, brow furrowed, eyes focused and barely blinking. His top teeth are biting his bottom lip as he dodges another set of banana peels strewn across the track of Rainbow Road.

You can’t take this a moment longer. Every emotion you’ve been repressing these past few months is about to explode out of you. 

You silently set down your controller, even though you’re in the middle of the race. He can win, he’s already won in several ways that have zero to do with Mario Kart. You scoot over to him, “Bertl.” 

He jumps a little when he sees just how close you are, lips parted, the ghost of a question that was never quite vocalized. 

“I need to tell you something.” You manage.

“Like...right now?”

You swallow and nod, “Yeah.”

He’s staring at you in complete confusion, but pauses the game and gives you his full attention. 

“Reiner, are you okay? What’s going on?”

You take a deep breath, this is it. It’s go time. 

“I LOVE YOU.” You blurt out. 

Okay, wow, not exactly how you were supposed to open this up, but too late now. The flood gates are open, and your words start tumbling out, hopefully coherently, but you can’t be certain.

“I’ve known you for practically my whole life, you’re always helping me out, and dammit you’re just so cute when you smile, even when you’re all nervous and blushing, and I love you.”

You expect him to bolt out of the room and that will be it, but he doesn’t. Instead he’s staring at you gobsmacked, mouth attempting to form words, but failing miserably. 

You groan, face palming, “Shit, I’m sorry, forget I said anything.” 

You start to turn away, but Bertholdt grabs your wrist.

“Reiner, wait..”

Your eyes meet his. He doesn’t look upset, in fact he giggles.

You are confused.

“Oh my god Reiner,” Bertholdt manages, “I thought you were going to give me some really bad news, like you were moving away, or I don’t know, something really awful happened.”

This was not in any of the 80 different scenarios you played out in your head prior to this moment. You don’t know how to proceed. 

“So then, do you uhh...”

He leans in and kisses you. It’s soft, innocent, but still manages to send shockwaves through your system. Holy hell, you were not prepared for this development.

“Is that a yes?”

Bertholdt laughs, “Yeah that’s a yes.”

Bertholdt likes you back. Sharing your feelings didn’t screw everything up. This is the best thing to happen in recent memory! It might even be better than when that Porco kid tripped over his own loose shoelace and face planted in the hallway and gave himself a bloody nose!

A huge weight has lifted off your shoulders, you start laughing at the ridiculousness of the last few months, torturing yourself over these feelings that were actually mutual all along. 

When you catch your breath, you lean against Bertholdt’s shoulder, just enjoying being close to him. 

A wicked thought crosses your mind.

“So...D&D huh?”

Bertholdt stiffens and groans. “You saw that huh?”

“Why were you so afraid to tell me?”

“Because it’s like...I don’t know ultra nerdy?”

“Well...yeah, it is, but so what? If anything, I’m more upset you didn’t invite me.”

He stares at you, “You want to play D&D?”

“I could? You can be whatever you want right? I can be some half-orc half-rock warrior guy named Snot who’s on the run from the other orcs who are trying to eat him.”

“Wow...that’s...Wait, if he’s an Orc, why are they trying to eat him? How can they eat him? He’s made of-okay, nevermind. If you want to try playing, we meet on Wednesdays at Armin’s house after school.”

“Sweet. Speaking of games,” You motion to the still paused Mario Kart match, “should we resume the hell level?”

“Reiner, _you_ picked Rainbow Road. You _always_ pick Rainbow Road.”

“But it’s so pretty?”

Bertholdt shakes his head and leans over to kiss you.

“I’m going to kick your ass.” He murmurs.

Well you’re not going to let that slide. 

“Goodness Mr. Hoover, it’s not even our first date.” 

Bertholdt flushes at that, but smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will probably reread this tomorrow and find a ton of things to edit, maybe even rewrite, but I needed to get this up here.


End file.
